


The Real Thing

by nonelvis



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 10:26:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonelvis/pseuds/nonelvis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten, Donna, Jack, and a bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Real Thing

**Author's Note:**

> As threatened, this is the PWP followup to my story "The Replacement." It is not necessary to read that story before reading this one unless you want to know why Jack is involved, or why Donna is wearing such a ridiculous outfit. But let's face it: this is PWP, so all you really care about is the smut anyway.

In the rare moments of quiet Donna has to herself on the TARDIS, she sometimes wonders how different her life would be if she'd never found the Doctor again. For one thing, she's certain it wouldn't have included impersonating a religious icon, shaking her tassel-covered tits for hundreds of wedding guests, and preparing to engage in a threesome with her alien fuck-buddy and his stunningly handsome friend.

Life with the Doctor is nothing if not _different,_ she thinks, as the Doctor ushers her and Jack into his bedroom.

"I think two of us are overdressed," Jack says, slipping off his coat. He tosses it over a side chair, one already laden with stacks of books and a couple of the Doctor's wrinkled shirts. "Ah, almost forgot," he adds, extracting a plastic bottle from one of his coat pockets and dropping it on the bed. "We'll be needing this."

Donna eyes him sceptically. "You travel with lube all the time?"

"Torchwood. Have to be prepared for anything."

"If there's anyone who'd have a lubricant-related emergency, it'd be you lot," says the Doctor, loosening the knot on his tie and flinging it, along with his jacket, on top of Jack's coat. "The stories I heard from Martha ..."

Jack shrugs, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it slip to the floor. "She was welcome to join in any time she wanted, but she said her boyfriend wouldn't approve. So I told her he was welcome, too." He strips off his white undershirt, revealing the kind of magnificently sculpted, hairless chest Donna usually only gets to see in Calvin Klein adverts.

She sucks in a breath. "Bring that over here," she says.

Jack complies, responding with a playful "Yes, ma'am," and Donna, fascinated by Jack's remarkable body, traces the outlines of his pectoral and abdominal muscles until she hits a particularly ticklish spot, and Jack wriggles away. He shakes a finger at her. "Naughty girl." Spins her around and pulls her back against him, splaying his fingers over her abdomen and squeezing lightly. "Besides," he whispers, his lips grazing her neck, "you did all the hard work today. The Doctor and I should be paying attention to you, not the other way around."

"No argument here," she replies, and arches her neck to give Jack better access. His lips hover above her, his breath warming her skin, and she squeaks at the cool shock of his tongue dipping down to taste her.

Before all her brain cells finish transferring power from rational thought to _fuck-me-now_, Donna remembers that Jack, unlike the Doctor, is human, with potential human complications. She turns to look him in the eye. "Exactly how prepared for anything are you, Captain? Don't we need some kind of protection?"

"Relax. My shots are good for at least another fifty years."

Donna nods slightly, and pulls Jack's head back down to her neck. "Carry on, then."

In the time it's taken Jack and Donna to start things off, the Doctor has finished stripping down. Naked, he moves to stand in front of her. "I should have warned you," he says. He removes Donna's black wig, a leftover from her wedding escapade, unpins her hair, and smooths out its kinks affectionately. "Jack can be quite a tease."

"He's – _oh_ – he's not bad," she says, closing her eyes as Jack sucks her right earlobe into his mouth, and one of his hands slides up to cover a breast, pinching and twisting at the nipple to remove the pasty she'd been wearing. She motions feebly at the Doctor. "You could make yourself useful, you know."

"I suppose I could," he answers, nonchalant, but then his teeth are grasping at the tassel from the other pasty, and the pads of his thumbs rub both nipples gently, massaging skin left sore and chapped from the glue. Donna moans, begs for more. The two men work in unison, almost as if they'd planned this; the Doctor pushes Donna's skirt and knickers to the floor, Jack drives a finger down between the lips of her pussy, and if this is their idea of "teasing," the main event is likely to be just fine indeed.

Donna moans again, low in her throat, when the Doctor cradles her cheeks in both hands and kisses her, nothing forceful or possessive about the kiss despite the way he's holding her. It's relaxed, but confident: the leisurely kiss of a man who expects to take his time, and though they've shared a bed before, there's nothing Donna loves more than feeling like she's new country for her partner to explore.

Jack, for his part, is exploring much more southern terrain than the Doctor, his finger moving in languid lines up and down Donna's slit. She's still dry, making things rougher than she likes, but Jack notices before Donna has a chance to tell him to stop. "I can fix this," he murmurs into her ear, "but you're going to need to lie down for that."

Donna breaks off her kiss with the Doctor, takes his hand and Jack's, pulls them both down to the bed. "You're very good at fixing things, aren't you, Captain?" she asks, as Jack gently pushes up her knees and spreads her legs apart, while the Doctor fluffs a pillow for her to rest against.

"You have _no_ idea," Jack replies, and then drops his head to Donna's pussy for one long, bottom-to-top lick that makes her yelp in surprise.

"That," she says shakily, "that ought to do it." And then gives herself over to him, letting him set the pace while her hands clutch at the sheets.

Jack works at Donna with a delicate yet frustrating lack of pressure, a light swirl here, a tap and flick there, and for a few tantalising moments, a finger or two curling inside her. "Put those back," she finds herself whining, actually _whining_, at Jack when he withdraws, but instead he chuckles, the vibrations of his laughter tingling on her cunt beautifully, maddeningly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the Doctor kneeling beside her, his hand pumping up and down his cock as he watches her writhe beneath Jack's tongue. There's no way she's going to let the smug bastard sit back and have a casual wank while his friend is tormenting her like this, so experimentally, Donna lifts her torso and turns her head to try and reach the Doctor's cock with her mouth. When the angle doesn't quite work, she compromises, wrapping her hand around him and waiting for him to let her take over. He stops moving, turns her hand palm up to dribble lube onto it, then hisses as the cool liquid on her hand touches his most sensitive skin.

Donna drags her fist along his length slowly, tightening towards the tip and twisting her fingers to rub at the ridge on the underside. The Doctor groans, tilting closer to Donna as she continues to stroke him, and finally he's near enough that when she leans over, she can suck in the fleshy head of his cock, smooth and silky from the lube.

She increases the speed of her hand while twirling her tongue around him, enjoying the feel of the Doctor hardening under her touch and knowing not just that he's under her control, but that he _wants_ to be. Another twirl, a lengthy lick as far down his cock as she can reach, the faintest graze of her teeth across him to make him twitch.

And that's the moment when Jack switches his tactics, his tongue swiftly fluttering against Donna's clit, three fingers inside her now, more fingers teasing all around, working every part of her at once and sending her tensed nerves into overdrive. She has hardly any warning before the orgasm washes over her, just enough time to release the Doctor's cock before she accidentally squeezes it too hard, and then she's shaking and gasping, crying out Jack's name and swearing she'll fucking kill him if he ever stops what he's doing.

Jack does eventually draw things to a halt with several broad, gentle swipes from his tongue, each one causing Donna to shudder again until finally, she, the Doctor, and Jack are still, waiting to see what happens next.

Donna props herself up on her elbows, breathing heavily, and looks down at Jack, red-faced and grinning at her. "You, sir, are bloody marvellous," she says, and ruffles his hair.

She turns to the Doctor, still crouched by her side with a hard-on bobbing temptingly in mid-air, and says, "And as for you, sunshine – you've been keeping this friend of yours hidden away from me. I should throttle you with your tie for that. Go put one on, I'll wait here." She collapses against the mattress and closes her eyes, endorphins still whirling around her system, pleasantly sedated.

"Doc, I think we broke her," Jack says, and she can hear the smirk in his voice. "Guess we'll have to keep ourselves entertained for a while." Donna feels him retreat from his position between her legs and drop himself back on the bed beside the Doctor, and endorphin haze or no, she's still aware enough to tell that the two men are entangled with each other now. There's the intriguing sound of lips smacking together, and low sighs, and as much fun as it is to watch the Doctor unspool beneath her hands, Donna suspects it will be even more fun to watch someone else take a turn at that.

Sure enough, when she opens her eyes, she's greeted with the sight of muscles rippling across Jack's back as he covers the Doctor's body with his own, while the Doctor has one hand firmly grasping Jack's arse, the other fisted in his hair. The men are kissing deeply, passionately, with the familiarity of longtime lovers, exposing the Doctor's halfhearted attempts to brush off Jack's advances earlier in the day as nothing more than foreplay. 

Jack grinds his hips into the Doctor, who responds by curling snugly around him, then flipping him over to return the favour. With the men sandwiched together like this, there's only so much Donna can do to participate, but she does her best by moistening a finger and wickedly sliding it down the curve of the Doctor's buttocks until she reaches the taut skin behind his balls. He rewards her with a long _ohhhhh_ that turns into something closer to a whimper as Donna's hand reaches further to cup and massage him.

"We should ..." he starts, but Donna interrupts with feathery kisses on the back of his neck.

"We should," Jack agrees, and carefully shifts the Doctor off to the left so he can lie between the Doctor and Donna. "We really, really should."

Jack motions to Donna. "Come here. Lie on your side, that's my girl." He presses against Donna from behind, and she lifts her left leg, allowing him to guide his cock neatly inside her. His hand grazes her belly, sliding up to circle her breasts and hold her steady against his chest, and he begins to trail his lips over her shoulders. He thrusts once, then again, then stops and groans; Donna suddenly feels another hand touching her, and realises that Jack's pause was to adjust himself as the Doctor entered him.

Side by side by side like this, neither of the men is in any position to thrust deeply, so instead the three of them move together in a syncopated, undulating rhythm, the Doctor pushing into Jack, Jack pushing into Donna, Donna tightening herself around Jack's cock. Jack tears his lips and teeth away from the hickey he's raising on Donna's neck, and she feels him lean backwards, hears a moan that must have been muffled by the Doctor's mouth. The Doctor continues to caress Donna's flank, his fingers just long enough to reach and knead at her left breast, and Jack, despite being occupied on all sides, drags his hand from Donna's chest down to her cunt, spreading her apart further to stroke slowly, deliberately.

The three of them slide against each other, sweat and other fluids easing the friction, and but for what Jack is doing with his hand _right there_, building that initial tension within Donna, she thinks they might be able to move like this forever. Back. Forth. The Doctor's fingers combing through her hair; Jack licking perspiration from her back while he drives into her harder and harder; Donna clutching Jack's thigh, the muscles flexing under her fingers.

Just as Donna starts to feel a second orgasm prickling beneath the surface, Jack's rhythm shifts to staccato, his gasps and quickened breaths mingled with the Doctor's, and suddenly Donna feels two rough jolts: the first as the Doctor comes with a long groan, propelling Jack into her; the second as Jack manages one last push before coming himself. He rests his forehead on Donna's shoulder, panting, and his fingers pause against her clit while he collects himself.

"Sorry," he says. "I thought I could hold on a little longer and wait for you, but I guess the Doctor had other plans."

"Blaming all this on me, Captain?" asks the Doctor as he rolls off his side of the bed and lies back down next to Donna. "I wasn't the one with my hand in Ms. Noble's lady bits, you know ... but we'll soon deal with that." He taps Jack's hand, and Jack withdraws it.

"You'd better, spaceman, because I was this close to –" Donna finishes her sentence with a sharp sigh as the Doctor makes good on his word, dipping his fingers inside her, drawing out moisture and rubbing his thumb in circles around her clit. He traces her nipple with his tongue, sucking in the peak, and Donna arches her back when the pace of his fingers increases.

Ultimately, it takes both men to tip her over the edge, as Jack leans in, whispers in her ear; unbelievable, filthy, incredibly seductive fantasies she's never even considered involving tongues, cocks, cunts, arses, and a handsome man describing the dirty, dirty things he wants to do to her. Donna cries out when she comes, bliss spiking straight up her spine, her breath ragged.

Afterwards, the three of them nestle against each other in the bed, legs and arms intertwined, one person occasionally nuzzling another with a light kiss or gentle stroke. Donna, nearly comatose with pleasure by now, pets her partners' hair, kisses each of their foreheads. "I'll be lucky if I can walk tomorrow," she says. "Isn't there a Planet of the Shiatsu Masseurs? I could do with a long rubdown."

Jack opens his mouth to respond, but Donna closes it with her index finger. "Not that kind of rubdown, Captain. And I'm not going anywhere without a shower first."

"I know just the place," says the Doctor. "There's a lovely little spa near Antares. The staff there has incredibly strong foreams. Well, I say forearms, I mean tentacles. You wouldn't believe what they can do with their suckers. But first," he adds, "that shower you wanted." He springs to his feet and offers his hands to Donna and Jack.

"Come on," he says. "Don't want to waste a moment."

And they don't.


End file.
